


Addicted

by AbaddonsLittleWItch



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anal Sex Mention, Cigarettes, Implied Sexual Content, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Oral Fixation, Oral sex mention, Smoking, Smoking Kink, nicotine addiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-21
Updated: 2019-03-21
Packaged: 2019-11-26 15:42:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18182534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbaddonsLittleWItch/pseuds/AbaddonsLittleWItch
Summary: Tony Stark is a smoker. And Steve Rogers enjoys it more than he should.





	Addicted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FreyaS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/FreyaS/gifts), [PjCole](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PjCole/gifts).



They’re unfiltered Camels, the cigarettes he smokes on a semi-frequent basis. The same kind Obie smoked… because it was Obie that gave him his first. He tried to change brands after the betrayal but. He couldn’t. Everything else tasted wrong when he tried, would burn in his throat, gag him, or just plain taste bad.

So he sticks with the Camels.

And then he joins the Avengers and then...he notices. Steve has a tic, a small tell. He jumps lightly, marginally, every time he hears the telltale flick of Tony’s lighter. And then, later, he learns that Steve enjoys the taste of the leftover smoke that always lingers on Tony. He licks it off Tony’s lips, off his hands.

His response brands new memories into Tony’s mind. It makes him smile a little each time. And Steve? Develops a pavlovian response to the sound of a lighter flicking. The little chink, flick. Chink. Flick. 

Because Tony exclusively uses zippos; fancy gold ones that cost more than a car, small silver ones that shine like glass.

And he knows that the click of the lighter is immediately a trigger for Steve. He’s seen it, Steve’s response. Sometimes, when they’re in a meeting, he’ll idly take the lighter out and flick it, on and off. He slyly watches Steve squirm for nearly thirty minutes and then after the meeting pulls Steve into an empty conference room to take care of him.

Steve whines when there’s no smell, no aftertaste, but fuck he'll swallow down the heady musk of Tony’s cock instead and it’s better, anyways

But later.

Later, in the privacy of the balcony on the penthouse, he pulls one out of Tony’s pack. Slides it in his mouth. Lights it for him. His eyes are bright as Tony takes a deep drag and blows the smoke out of the corner of his mouth.

Tony makes him wait, a teasing smile curling around the cigarette.

“Patience is a virtue, Captain."

"You don’t have any virtues, Tony."

Tony laughs, accidentally blowing smoke everywhere.

He waits until he’s smoked the entire thing before even vaguely starts thinking about kissing Steve, who is nearing desperation. When he finally does it’s open mouthed, hot and hard and Tony’s tongue slides into him, passing the taste of smoke into Steve.

The lingering scent is there, too, under the smell of grease and oil and Tony's cologne and whatever else.

And Steve both loves it and hates it. Loves the almost sweet smell of fresh smoke, and the deeper, richer smell of the stale scent that lingers on Tony’s body. Tony is careful, usually, tries to wash it off, but Steve can smell and taste it still. It’s given him a second hand addiction

He'll never admit it, but he loves the taste when he sucks Tony’s fingers into his mouth and it coats his tongue. He lets Tony believe he has a thing for his hands, rather than voice that he has an addiction to the taste of smoke on Tony’s skin.

And he just… he can’t stop. Especially when Tony is sliding slowly into him and he seeks out Tony’s mouth or his hands… needs that taste on the back of his tongue, the fingers fucking his mouth as surely as the cock in his ass.

Steve feels guilty that he has such a thing for Tony’s smoking. He’s seen the research, he knows that smoking causes cancer. Logically, he knows he should discourage it. But the sight of Tony smoking, a cigarette dangling delicately between his fingers, smoke curling lightly away from him, and the smell that surrounds him, is a strange sort of aphrodisiac for him.

Tony laughs lightly when Steve mentions that it’s bad for him, as though fighting super villians on the regular hasn’t also shortened his life expectancy. He does get Tony to slow down, though, to have maybe three or four a week. But it doesn’t help that Tony knows Steve enjoys watching him do it, knows that Steve will ask JARVIS to play feeds of him in the lab, where he’s got one dangling from his lips while he tinkers on a bot.

They never really talk about it, not in a normal way. It goes unmentioned, unspoken, unvoiced. But it’s always there, the underlying need, visible in the muscle that twitches in Steve’s jaw every time Tony flicks his lighter. He tries not to take advantage of it. He fails miserably.


End file.
